Hundreds of Stories
by Allanna Stone
Summary: When I found him again, he wasn't as I remembered him…
1. Chapter 1

**Hundreds of Stories**

**I do not own X-Men or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:  
>When I found him again, he wasn't as I remembered him…<strong>

I knew from the start that this had to be the most idiotic idea that I ever had. Hell- it was even more stupid then the time I was four years old and stood in the bullpen, giving Mr. Horns the "what for".

But there was no turning back.

Once I had begun the journey, I had to finish it.

I couldn't just throw in the towel and walk away.

I took several deep breaths to steel my nerves before I entered the seedy Canadian bar. It was moments before the stench of unwashed bodies and beer hit me. it took everything I had not to gag and pass out onto the floor.

I pushed and shoved my way past the crowd of drunks who were gathered around a large steel fighting cage. I couldn't get any closer to the cage so I did the only other thing that I could do.

I crawled underneath the drunken men's legs.

To my relief, no one was paying any attention to me.

Instead, everyone was focused on watching someone in the cage beating the living shit out of a shirtless man.

"This had better as hell be him or else Alex is going to die in a most slowly and painful way," I muttered out loud before clamping my mouth shut.

I looked on as the now unconscious man was dragged out of the cage by two bouncer like men.

"Never in all my years have I ever seen anything like this," boomed the crier, a cheap microphone in hand. "Are you going to let this man walk away with your money?"

When my head popped up next to the fighting cage, I saw my target without any trouble at all.

"I'll fight him!" a burly man with tats running up and down his arms stood up and lumbered over to the cage. He was met with many loud cheers.

"Ladies and gentlemen, our savior!" cried the man with a microphone, covering it to say something to the other man. People were banging on the metal cage, showing support for their newfound hero.

Suddenly, a loud bell rang, signaling the start of the fight.

The tattooed man ran at my target, roaring as he swung a punch at him, sending him down to the floor. I could tell from looking at his back that he was very well built.

The man lifted his leg and struck Logan right in the back. Logan spun around from the force of the attack, so he was now facing his opponent. But he hadn't even raised his hands before the challenger had punched him, twice. My target fell to his knees.

I raised a finely plucked eyebrow.

Alex was so fricking dead.

There was no way in high hell's name that he was the man that I had been hunting for two years.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changed drastically.

As the tattooed man went to punch him, my target's fist connected with his opponent's. I flinched as I pictured the pain that was going through their veins.

But my target seemed to be showing zero signs of pain as he stepped into the light.

And for the first time in fifteen years, I looked into the face of my target.

He had dark hair that trailed down the sides of his face into mutton chops, his darker eyes were at the moment, glaring at his opponent and his mouth was pulled back into a full out snarl.

It wasn't in my genetics to be fearful, but I couldn't help but appreciate the fact that my target wasn't glaring at me.

Suddenly, he punched the tattooed man so hard that he flew back into the cage. I saw silver chains around my target's neck.

Dog tags.

My target's second punch had been more than enough to finish off the fighter. He fell onto his back with a loud moan. The bell rang again and the fight was obviously over. My target rolled his neck and shoulders, clearly unfazed by the beating that he had just took. I was amazed at the level of his mutation.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the man with the microphone said as he re-entered the cage, "tonight's winner and still king of the cage, the Wolverine!"

The Wolverine sulked back into his corner while lighting up one of those God damn cancer sticks.

I had just seen my target for the first time in over a decade, and he had beaten a man with less than three punches. I was shocked, despite all that Alex had told me.

I didn't want to go up to him and introduce myself to him that very moment and I had a gut feeling that after the last fight of the night, he would be wanting a drink. I made my way to the bar, chucking my backpack at my feet as I settled myself onto a bar stool. I ordered an apple juice, which the bar tender gave to me.

I snorted as I read the tip jar's note; Tipping is not a city in China.

"You mind explaining to me the story behind this?" I asked him with amusement written on my face. He grunted and slid the jar out of my reach.

The minutes clocked by. The crier was sitting at a small table with a tall pile of money. The TV above the bar was showing a news report but I wasn't paying attention.

Suddenly, someone approached the bar. My heart just about hit the roof when my target sat down at the end of the bar, wearing at least three or four flannel shirts and a brown jacket. He had a lit cancer stick in his mouth, where there seemed to be a permanent scowl etched onto his face.

"Just a beer," he grunted as he rooted up a heavy wad of bills from his pocket.

I was sitting with my attention focused on my drink, but thanks to my mirror sunglasses, I was able to keep a close eye on my target. Suddenly, I noticed that his eyes were on me. I examined my fingernails, totally obvious to the fact that the scruffy cage fighting champ was ogling me.

"The leaders of over 200 nations will discuss issues ranging from the world's economic climate and weapons treaties to the mutant phenomenon and it's impact on our world stage."

The news report I had been ignoring suddenly gained my attention. I happened to notice one particular word gaining Logan's attention.

"Many American legislators have contended that the debate over mutant issues should be primary focus, of what is, on the surface, a strictly diplomatic affair..."

"You owe me some money."

I looked around as someone spoke. The tattooed man Logan had fought was standing behind him, looking far from a merry man. Another guy stood behind him.

"No man takes a beating like that and has nothing to show for it," the tattooed man said. I got that icky feeling in my stomach again as I peered behind me at the slowly brewing fight.

"I know what you are," the man whispered into his ear.

"You lost your money," Logan growled over his shoulder to the man, "Keep this up and you'll lose something else."

The tattooed man's friend went to pull him away but he wasn't going to be a good boy. I watched with horror as he pulled a small blade from within his jacket.

"Look out!" I shouted, jumping up to assist my target with the problematic man.

But he already beat me to it.

Without even making a sound, he unleashed metal claws from his hand and spun around so that way he had the tattooed man pinned to the wal with a claw on either side of his neck.

Suddenly, I heard the sounds of a shotgun being cocked. I slowly turned my head and spied that the owner of the bar had taken out a shotgun and had it pointed at his head. Wolverine glared at him before he released the claws on his other hand, slicing through the weapon and stunning the owner.

He stalked out of the bar, leaving me in a barful of burly men who looked stunned by what had just happened.

It was now or never.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hundreds of Stories**

**I do not own X-Men or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:  
>When I found him again, he wasn't as I remembered him…<strong>

When I reached the nippy outside, I spied my target getting into a beat up camper van with a trailer attached to it. I quickly ran up to the trailer and jumped into it.

As I may've mentioned, once I had a target, I didn't stop until I either killer him or apprehended him.

In this case, I was going to do the latter.

I settled my backpack as a pillow as I covered myself with a tarp. I began to doze off, my past coming back to me in hazy flashbacks.

Suddenly, the vehicle came to a halt. I blinked open my eyes in surprise. We couldn't have reached another town so soon… Have we?

I heard him open the car door and walk over to the trailer.

Oh holy fucking shit.

He poked me twice before peeling the tarp away from my body. I squinted as I peered up at him. He had another cancer stick in his mouth as well as a scowl.

"What the hell are you doing?" he snarled at me.

"I'm sorry, I needed a ride," I tried to mollify him by giving him my best kicked puppy look.

Apparently, the man didn't like cuteness.

"Get out," he barked, grabbing my backpack and tossing it onto the road while waiting for me to scramble out of the trailer.

"Where am I suppose to go?" I challenged him, giving him an icy glare.

"I don't know," he answered, walking back to the camper van.

"You don't know or you don't care?" I shouted at his quickly retreating back.

"Pick one," he shouted back at me before slamming the door shut.

"I saved your life!" I screamed at him.

I resisted the urge to sit down and cry and scream like a little kid.

I was debating just what the fuck I was going to do when I saw his break lights come on. He was stopping? But why?

I grabbed up my bag from the road and ran for the campervan. I approached the passenger side and hesitantly opened the door. I stood there for a moment.

"You gunna get in or what kid?" he growled at me.

I tossed my bag into the cab and with the litheness of a gymnast/dancer, hoisted myself up into the cab and sat down in the seat. No sooner than I had shut the door, the camper took off. The stench of uncleanness, alcohol and smoke invaded my nose and I had to force myself not to gag.

We drove around in silence before my stomach began to complain quite loudly. I ignored the rumbling, but my target reached over into the glove box and dug out a packet of beef jerky. He tossed it at me and I caught it, ripping it open with one fluid motion. I nearly groaned with happiness as I jammed the first strip into my mouth.

"I'm Tala Rose," I introduced myself to him, looking for any signs of recognition.

There was nothing.

I looked across me at his dog collars that rested on his chest before asking him, "Were you in the army?" He looked over at me. "Doesn't- doesn't that mean you were in the army?" I stuttered as he reached down to tuck the dog tags into his shirt, out of sight.

I peered into the back of the camper; it resembled a dump.

"Wow," I breathed to myself softly.

However, my target's sensitive ears picked up my word. He looked over at me as he skillfully maneuvered the veichal through the snow. "What?"

"Suddenly, my life doesn't look that bad."

"Hey, if you prefer the road-"

"No," I cut in. "No… it looks great. It looks… cozy."

Suddenly, I began to shiver. With a sigh, my target switched on the rusty heater to the highest setting and reached over to grab my hands. "Put your hands onto the heater," he bossed me, his tone now gentle.

"When they come out, does it hurt?" I blurted out, feeling the rough callues on his hands as he gently placed my hands onto the heater.

Nice one, girly. You meet your target for the first time in fifteen years and your already annoying the living hell out of him.

"Every time," Wolverine said softly. "So what kind of name is Tala Rose?" he asked us then.

"I don't know. What kind of name is Wolverine?" I shot back at him with a smirk on my face. I was kind of hurt by the comment that he made.

"My name's Logan," he said quietly.

I, of course, knew this, but I didn't voice my words out loud.

"You know, you should wear your seatbelt," I spoke up in a tone of voice that I used on all my friends back home.

"Look, kid, I don't need advice on auto safety from-"

Suddenly, a tree landed in the center of the road. I screamed as the window shattered, and the impact of the crash sent Wolverine out the window and into the snow.

"I'm stuck!" I cried, yanking on myr leg, which had became lodged between the door and the dashboard during the collision.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hundreds of Stories**

**I do not own X-Men or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:  
>When I found him again, he wasn't as I remembered him…<strong>

Oh shit.

I quickly used my mutation to free myself. But when I looked up again, there was a caveman-SERIOUSLY?- attacking Logan.

I jumped out of the camper van and tossed my backpack onto my shoulders, pissed to hell and back.

"OY!" I shouted, grabbing the caveman's attention for a few moments. That was all the time that Logan needed to attack the dude and take him by surprise. I joined in a few moments, later, using my three years of street fighting to kick the creepy newcomer in his nuts.

But then, my attention was diverted to newcomers.

"Holy shit," I muttered, turning to face them. There was a guy in odd red sunglasses and a woman with dark skin and snow white hair.

I ran at them and jumped up into the air, twisting my leg out into a front dragon heel kick.

But Sunglasses blocked me and tossed me onto my back. I stood up and glared daggers at them.

I opened my mouth and _**SCREAMED**_ bloody murder. The two newcomers fell away, their hands clasped to their bleeding ears.

"Logan! Cover your ears!" I shouted before repeating the sound. The caveman roared and shook his head, blood flying everywhere.

"Get out of here, kid!" he shouted, running to tackle the caveman again.

I looked at him before jumping into the fight, kicking and punching anywhere I could.

The next thing that I knew was that there was a tiny pricking feeling on my neck and I collapsed.

~oOo~

The next thing that I knew was that I was in a cold, stainless steel room. I sat up with a loud groan, wincing as I felt my bad knee twanging again.

"Where the hell am I?" I wondered to myself as I yanked off the annoying stickies that someone had slapped onto me. I noticed that someone had grabbed my backpack and that it was now sitting on a chair.

I grabbed it and darted out of the room, ignoring all the commotion that popped up out of nowhere. I spied Logan a few hallways up.

"Logan!" I hissed loudly, grabbing his attention for the time being. I ran over to him, and stuck close to his side as an elevator door opened up for us. Logan dragged me inside and hit a button. Within a few minutes, we were out of the stainless steel hallway of terror and in a more normal area of the compound.

I followed Logan, my senses on high alert, as were his. He heard something and pulled me behind a pillar just as a bunch of kids came stampeding down a flight and stairs and ran off into another hallway, shouting and laughing as they went.

Logan opened a door and I darted through it with him closely behind me.

To my embarrassment, I saw that we had entered a study/classroom. There was a bald man, who smiled kindly at us, before turning his attention back to the students.

"Now class, I expect that report on what we covered today on my desk first thing on Monday." And with that, the class was clearly dismissed. The students arose and walked out, all chattering and laughing. Suddenly, a pretty Asian girl doubled back and grabbed some books that she had forgotten.

"Good day, Kitty," the bald man said to her. She smiled and… _walked through the door?_

"Ah, Logan, Tala Rose. It's so nice to see that you're awake at last! Are you hungry?" he asked us.

My stomach rumbled loudly. I blushed, embarrassed by my body's rude behavior.

"Tala Rose," the man smiled, handing me a covered up dish. I accepted it and peeped underneath the cover. Scrambled eggs, hash browns and pancakes.

"Thank you," was all that I said before tugging in. I polished off the plate in under three seconds flat.

Suddenly, the door opened to show the dark skinned girl and man with red glasses standing there.

"This is Ororo Monroe, also called Storm, and Scott Summers, otherwise known as Cyclops."

I waved shyly to them as I stood to stand besides Logan. He stot me a look but I gave him one of my own evil stink eye glares.

"What is going on with the silent exchanges between the two of you?" asked Cyclops, confused.

"Um, it's personal," I told him. I turned my attention to face the wheelchair bond man. "Who are you and where are we?"

"My name is Professor Charles Xavier and you are at the Xavier School for Gifted Youngsters, located in Winchester, New York," he answered me pleasantly.

"Let me guess- this is a school for mutants?" He nodded. "But why bring us here?"

"For medical attention," answered the professor.

"I don't need medical attention," snarled Logan.

"No, of course not," answered the professor. "But Tala Rose does."

Everyone's eyes were adverted to me.

"What?" asked Logan in a confused tone of voice.

"Your knee," he answered.

"Oh. That." I blinked a few times. "It's nothing, I just popped it a few years back, roller skating. I don't think it healed right."

"Dr. Grey can help you with your troublesome knee." A pretty redhead with green eyes entered the room with a giant bruise on her neck.

"Did someone say my name?" she asked, with a smile/grimace. She spied Logan and froze for just a moment.

"Christ, Logan, what did you do?" I asked him, my voice exasperated and filled with irritation.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hundreds of Stories**

**I do not own X-Men or any of the songs.**

**SUMMERY:  
>When I found him again, he wasn't as I remembered him…<strong>

About three days after I arrived at the school, I was asked to go to Professor Xavier's office.

When I arrived, I saw that he had a tea set on his desk and was pouring for two.

"Ah, Tala Rose. I'm so glad that you could join me," he smiled. "Come in, come in. please sit down. Tea?"

"Yes please," I smiled, reaching into my backpack and taking out my collection of tea bags that I never went anywhere without. I took out a Razzle Dazzle Berry tea pouch and dunked it into my teacup. I took a spoon and began to stir the tea bag around.

"Now Tala Rose, when do you intend on telling Logan why you were tracking him?" asked the bald man bluntly.

"As soon as I can find a private moment with him," I answered him patiently, taking a sip of my tea.

"That time is today. Logan is in the gardens. Hurry on now, or else you may have to wait," announced the Professor in an all knowing voice.

"Really? Thanks, Professor!" I quickly downed the rest of my tea before jumping up to run out of the room.

As I neared the gardens, I slowed to a walk, taking my mother's letter out of my backpack. I had read it several times over the past fifteen years. This letter, my locket and charm bracelet were the only things that I had left of my mother.

I saw Logan under a tree, just sitting there, enjoying all that Mother Nature had to offer him.

As I approached, I wondered if I should make my presence be known. But when I was just a few steps behind him, he greeted me with a "Hey kid."

I rolled my eyes as I sat down next to him. I knew why he wasn't calling me by my name.

"Hey Logan," I handed him the letter.

"What's this?" he asked me, unfolding the brittle paper.

"The answers to your past."


End file.
